


We Were Built to Fall Apart

by CamsthiSky



Series: Angst Prompts Vol 1 [4]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU
Genre: Angst, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Not Really Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 00:41:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11956113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CamsthiSky/pseuds/CamsthiSky
Summary: Dick is hurt, tired, and ready to let go. Bruce doesn't seem to be ready to let him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> anonymous asked: 19) “You’re gonna make it, just stay awake.” Batfam with dick being gravely injured!

Sometimes, Dick thinks, people forget that there isn’t just Brucie Wayne or Batman. It isn’t just one or the other. When it’s quiet, when he’s around his family, when he finds a reason to  _care,_ Bruce Wayne quietly shines through the other two personas, and it makes Dick relieved. It’s nice to know that Batman hasn’t completely taken over the man who had taken him in and given him a home.

And it’s now, right now, that Bruce Wayne leaks past the cowl. It’s times like this. When someone’s hurt, that he shows that he really  _does_  care.

Dick chokes as the pressure on his shoulder increases, as Bruce presses down, trying to keep Dick from bleeding out on the ground in the warehouse. It’s too much. It’s  _too much._  He feels dizzy, light-headed, and he can barely focus on what Bruce is even saying to him.

“Come on, Dick,” Bruce pleads— _pleads—_ and he keeps going. Keeps talking. Maybe for Dick or maybe for himself, Dick really doesn’t know, but Dick tries to latch onto them. Bruce meets his eyes, and Dick realizes with a jowl that Bruce’s cowl is down. It  _is_  Bruce looking down at him right now. “Stay with me, Dick. Just stay with me.”

Blackness starts to creep in and Dick’s eyes flutter. But Bruce presses down even harder, and Dick can’t help it when he moans in pain.

“Stay awake, Nightwing,” Batman orders, and Dick kind of mourns the sudden loss of Bruce. It was easier when there wasn’t that harsh glint in his eyes, when there wasn’t that harsh tone telling him what to do. Dick could always disappoint Bruce, but there’s no way he could  _not_  obey Batman. Not when it’s a situation like this. It had been drilled into him from the moment he’d become Robin. “You’re going to make it, so just stay  _awake.”_

But Dick doesn’t  _want_  to obey. Not this time. Maybe he should feel guilty about it, maybe he should keep fighting, but he can’t seem to find it in him. There’s a weight on his shoulders—one that’s been there for a long time, and Dick doesn’t think he has it in him to keep on holding it. Even knowing what will happen to Bruce if he  _does_  stop fighting.

But Dick’s tired. And so, he lets go.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haunt-the-stars asked: angst prompt 1 with Dick? :))) hurt my heart pls thank u

 

Dick wakes up, which immediately sets off alarm bells in his head. He isn't sure why, but he  _knows_ that he isn't supposed to be here, in pain, still taking shallow breaths of the oxygen fed from the mask strapped to his face.

He's staring at the ceiling, wondering what went wrong  _where_ when he hears something clatter to the ground. When Dick looks to the medbay door, he locks gazes with Tim, who is standing just inside the room, frozen.

"Tim," Dick says weakly, pulling the mask off. "Timmy, come here."

But Tim doesn't move. He just stares at Dick, like he can't believe that Dick is awake, alive. Yeah, well neither can Dick. But he's here, and now he needs to deal with the consequences of being here.

The last thing Dick remembers is bleeding out on the floor of a warehouse, Bruce crouching above him trying to keep him alive. Dick remembers letting go, but it looks like Bruce had been able to keep him here. Too keep him from letting go.

Part of Dick wants to be angry, wants to scream and rage at Bruce in the quiet of the Cave, but Bruce isn't here right now, and Dick's tired. It's just him and Tim, and Dick thinks it would be wonderful if he could just lie down and hold his little brother in his arms.

"Tim," Dick says again, stronger this time, and it seems to be enough to spur Tim into action. Tim crouches down to pick up the utility belt he'd let slide from his fingers upon Dick's waking, sets it down on the next cot, and walks over to Dick's bedside. He hesitates before he sits down on the chair, though, and Dick only huffs a breath of irritation. "Just sit, Tim. I'm not gonna bite you."

"I know that," Tim says, sitting down heavily in the chair. There's no heat in his voice, though. Just exhaustion. It makes Dick wonder how long he'd been unconscious.

"Where's Bruce?" Dick asks, opening up a different can of worms. Tim doesn't answer, and Dick can only sigh. He should have known. "The study or the gym?"

"Gym," Tim says, eyebrows furrowing. "But how did—"

Dick chuckles darkly. "I'm surprised, Tim. I would have thought that you'd know by now that when it happens enough you learn to pick up on it."

Tim shrugs. "Usually he's by the computer, researching the hell out of something."

"Not this time." And Dick's voice is quiet, grave, when he continues, "This time, there's nothing to research. Back—Back when I was Robin, this would happen sometimes. And after Bruce couldn't stand sitting there anymore," Dick nods at Tim's chair, "he'd find some way to punish himself over what happened."

Tim hums. "I guess—he still does that."

"Just not as often, yeah," Dick says. "He likes to punish himself mentally nowadays. But sometimes I think he feels it isn't enough."

There's nothing more to say to that, so Dick and Tim lapse into silence. Tim sits by his bed, and Dick stares at his brother's face. He knows what's coming next. He can see it in Tim's expression, and he hopes that it comes sooner rather than later, because Dick's eyes are drooping. He's about ready to drop.

Then, Tim's expression crumples, and he puts a hand over his eyes. His breath hitches and he's curling into himself. "Sorry," Tim whispers. "I'm sorry, Dick."

"There's nothing to be sorry for," Dick hushes him, fumbling with clumsy fingers to catch Tim's wrist and pull his little brother closer to him. There's practically no resistance. Tim comes easily, climbing onto the cot—which, they're really more like beds, and he and Tim just barely fit—and sobbing into Dick's chest. Dick ignores the twinge of pain and focuses on consoling his brother. "Hey, it's okay. I'm okay."

Tim nods, but his face stays buried into his shirt, his shoulders shaking, and Dick holds him with his good arm. They stay that way for a long time.

Later, when Tim's asleep and Dick's just barely on the edge of it, Dick thinks that he sees Bruce peering in, a soft look on his face. And there's Bruce again. Just Bruce. And he's looking at Tim and Dick like he's seeing the world, and Dick wishes for nothing more than to just his hold his dad's hand right now at this moment.

He wants Bruce holding his hand, and he wants all of his baby brothers in his arms. But Bruce ducks away again, and the only weight against his is Tim's. Still, he takes it, and he thinks that maybe when he can stay awake without feeling the ache in his shoulder and the tiredness in his bones, maybe he'll get what he wants.

But for now, he's got one baby brother next to him, and he decides to take the win.


End file.
